


And Don't Forget to Breathe

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [42]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Character Development, Coping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Families of Choice, Feelings, Hopeful Ending, Hugs, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Post s02e08, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: He doesn't know when his arms wrapped to tightly around her, nor when her hands ended up splayed over his chest. Once again, Din has to remind himself it's his bare face she's looking at with these eyes full of love and sympathy. She stood by his side through the direst days of his life and she's still here, asking for nothing but to give him a little bit the comfort he desperately needs.The dampness at the corners of his eyes breaks into two silent tears that make his chin quiver. Cara doesn't tease him for this moment of weakness, doesn't say anything at all; she just wipes the wet trails of Din's tears away with the tips of her thumbs and sighs over an affectionate smile that only draws more tears from Din's eyes.“I'm sorry,” he mutters. He doesn't know what his feelings are doing.Cara pulls him down to brush a kiss upon his cheek before he can babble out anything else. When she starts pulling back, he stops her, and his heart starts racing at the thought of what could happen, now, if only—“Uh, hello? Guys? We're still here.”
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Cara Dune
Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709416
Comments: 27
Kudos: 162





	And Don't Forget to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Crawl by Placebo.

All Din can think while he the elevator doors cut away his sight of the child— _his_ child—is that he doesn't know what to do with his life, now.

Grogu's well-being and safety were his only purpose for so long he can barely remember what it was like before, just hunting and solitary nights and nothing but a handful of credits in his hands at the end of the day. Meeting the little one ignited a chain reaction that turn his life around a little more every day, gave him more than himself to live and care for. Without the kid, he would have died a bounty hunter; now he's somebody's carer, somebody's friend, somebody's— He doesn't know what he is to Cara, but he's glad she's here; without her, he would feel lost in this sudden loneliness.

Din can feel her, standing behind him in silence, her worry reaching out to him like a hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze. He wishes it could be an embrace, but there mere thought of breathing seems life-threatening right now; he feels like he might crumble if he only dared to blink. The tears are still in his eyes, trembling but refusing to spill, just as the knot swelling in his throat is refusing to relent. This was his mission all along: find the Jedi, leave the child in their care, turn around and leave. He can't—can't leave, can't just _let_ go. What he's feeling inside... it's not something that can ever go away. He _loves_ that little green brat, and all the distances across space and time won't be enough to change this.

A pang of grief pierces his chest. He shuts his eyes and holds his breath, riding the wave of sorrow the same way he's learned to ride the pain from a blaster shot before he had beskar to shield his body. There is no beskar to guard the soul from human emotions, though, and even if there was, Din wouldn't trade this heartache for any serenity: he will see Grogu again soon, he just knows he will.

“Hey.”

Cara's voice touches his uncovered ears, a soft, tentative caress that makes Din want to turn around for the mere pleasure of seeing her face, if only he could get any of his limbs to move.

“Are you okay?”

He presses his lips together to give her a feeble nod that is more a lie than the truth. “I think so.”

Cara lets out a light, amused scoff. She's not buying his tough facade. He wasn't expecting her to: she wouldn't be Cara if she did.

“That was not a goodbye, you know that,” she says. “Your kid went to boarding school... good for him. He's gonna get top grades and make his dad proud.”

This is the sensational thing about Cara Dune: she has this power—this innate, inescapable power—to make Din's chest fill with light even in the darkest moments. Even when he thought he was dying, he had Cara by his side, he had her to rely on and leave the child to. Even when he thought everything was lost, he still had Cara. He still has Cara, even today, and she's done so much for him, risked so much, he doesn't know where to start to show her how grateful he is.

He feels the strings immobilising his body give in the very moment he realises what he wants to do. Suddenly free and lighter, he starts turning around, but when he seeks Cara's eyes she's already facing away. It makes Din smile: after all they've been through and all the unthinkable things he's done to get to this point, she's still trying to protect him.

“You can look at me, Cara,” he murmurs with a nervous clench in his stomach.

Cara inhales sharply, shoulders tight. She's pale and serious, stubbornly focused on the floor, where her gun is lying not far from her feet.

“I don't think it's—” she tries to object, but Din offers her a reassuring smile still damp with unshed tears.

He waits, telling himself she won't do it, and for one second everything is dark again. He's bare before her and everyone else, and yet all he seems to care about is his need to see her eyes, her smile; she's all he has left and Din just wishes she will promise him once again she won't leave him.

“ _Please,”_ he implores like the desperate beggar he is, heart heavy with anticipation. After showing his face to Grogu, he doesn't care about anybody else: he only wants Cara to see him and, if she can, forgive him.

It takes long, endless seconds. The tip of Cara's tongue traces her lips as her chest rises with a deep breath, then, slowly, she looks up at him through her eyelashes, so reluctantly it makes his smile grow impossibly fond.

“Thank you,” he says, and he's not sure what he's thanking her for—accepting his plea or all the other extraordinary things she's done for him. How can a simple _'Thank you'_ be enough? “For everything.”

Cara's eyes are staring into his, wide and bright and glossy, and it's like she's forgotten how to breathe, too. The raw emotion he finds painted all over her face touches him deeper than he knew he could feel, relieving inch by inch the ache he has inside.

Cara grudgingly returns the smile and says, “There's nothing I wouldn't do for my little green bean and his idiot of a father.”

“You risked everything for him.”

“And I'd do it again.” Cara's expression softens, gaining a light tinge of blue. “I'm gonna miss those fuzzy ears.”

“Yeah.” Din hangs his head to let out a sigh that seems to drain away a little bit of his life with it. He almost wishes Cara was making fun of him and his face, just to give him something else to think about, but there's this solemn air to her while she studies him, just taking him in with a peculiar mixture of guilt and fascination that somehow is more moving than any word.

And then, just when he's starting to accept her silence, she takes a step forward, cocks her her to one side, and whispers, “You know he did that for you, right?”

“Me?” Din blinks. “None of this has ever been about me.”

“It is for him,” she argues gently. “You took care of him all this time, kept him safe, went through so much trouble to find someone who would train him... I'm sure that little guy didn't want to be a burden to you. What he's doing, he's doing to pay you back for all you did for him.” She puts a hand on his shoulder with a brittle grin that gives him a glimpse of how emotional she really is beneath this veil of strength. “You'll be proud of him, you'll see. He's gonna grow into a good little Jedi.”

Quietly, gently, Cara's words fight their way through his sadness and slowly Din's sense of loss starts fading, allowing something else to submerge—something Cara's reassuring smile helps him identify as _pride._ She's right: this is for the best, and Grogu's best above anything else. This is when he realises something that brings a smile upon his lips.

_Grow good._

“ _Gro-gu,”_ he whispers to himself in amazed disbelief. This cannot be a coincidence.

Cara furrows her eyebrows with a confused giggle at his suddenly amused face.

“What?”

“That's his name,” he explains, a bit breathless. “Grogu.”

He catches a fleeting wrinkle of distaste scrunching Cara's nose, right before she breaks into an apologetic little giggle.

“Alright, not the prettiest name I've heard, but I guess a Carasynthia shouldn't judge.” She raises a chuckle to him. “Sounds like a good omen to me.”

“It is,” he agrees. His sense of _loss_ is slowly morphing into hopeful nostalgia. “I hadn't really paid to much attention to it until now.”

 _Thanks to you,_ he should probably add, but he has a feeling Cara can read his mind just fine, judging by how lovingly she's gazing at him. Din has no control whatsoever over the touched smile spreading across his lips; he has to remind himself he's not wearing his helmet and his bare face is probably telling Cara all those things he's always kept safely tucked beneath an inscrutable beskar wall, but he doesn't really care. His old life and old ways are no more: from here on, he's going to build something entirely new for himself and those he loves.

Returning his smile, if a bit sheepishly, Cara gives him a playful shove. “Don't look at me like that.”

Her heated cheeks give away a hint of smugness so infectious Din finds himself moving closer to her.

“I've always looked at you like this,” he says matter-of-factly. “You just couldn't see it.”

Cara's teeth dig into a corner of her bottom lip as she shakes her head at him, “You're not pulling your punches, are you?” She gabs his belt and tugs him forward. Her eyes can't seem to be able to leave his; she's hungry for contact as much as he is; while one hand still holds his belt, the other one rises to ghost over his cheek.

“Someone needs a shave,” she quips as her thumb strokes the coarse stubble along his jaw.

Din's hands find their way to her hips. “I've had a couple of rough days.”

“Sounds like you could use a break.”

This is such an understatement it almost isn't funny. Din needs to keep himself busy to metabolise this separation without going crazy, but it is also true that he's worn out, mind and body, and all he's craving is some peace and quiet. He thinks fondly of their time on Sorgan, the days spent training the villagers with Cara while the kid played with the other children, and the nights sitting with her sipping spotchka under the stars... they've gone such a long way since then, and sometimes he can't believe Cara is still here after everything he and Grogu put her through.

“Know any place where a lonely Mandalorian can rest his bones?” he asks her, vaguely aware of the implicit question he's hiding in between the lines. Cara doesn't need to hear more: she brushes back his messy hair like it's something she's been doing since forever, then shoots him one of those knowing smirks of hers, “I might have an idea.”

Din closes his eyes at the soothing feeling of her fingers through his hair. This is Cara: strong and soft, tough and tender. She would make a wonderful mother to a future little Jedi.

He doesn't know when his arms wrapped to tightly around her, nor when her hands ended up splayed over his chest. Once again, Din has to remind himself it's his bare face she's looking at with these eyes full of love and sympathy. She stood by his side through the direst days of his life and she's still here, asking for nothing but to give him a little bit the comfort he desperately needs.

The dampness at the corners of his eyes breaks into two silent tears that make his chin quiver. Cara doesn't tease him for this moment of weakness; in fact, she doesn't say anything at all. She just wipes away the wet trails of Din's tears with the tips of her thumbs and sighs over an affectionate smile that only draws more tears from Din's eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he mutters. He doesn't know what his feelings are doing.

Cara pulls him down to brush a kiss upon his cheek before he can babble out anything else. When she starts pulling back, he stops her, and his heart starts racing at the thought of what could happen betwee them, now, if only—

“Uh, hello? Guys? We're still here.”

They flinch like thieves caught red-handed; from the other side of the room, Koska is chuckling at them with her arms crossed, while, right behind her, Bo-Katan looks like she might shoot them any moment. Fennec, on the other hand, appears to be very entertained by the show.

“If we're done with the sickening looks,” Bo-Katan intervenes suavely, “I would like to wrap things up and get out of here.”

Her glare is cutting through Din in a way that would make him shiver even with his helmet on. He tries not to grin, because it would only make her angrier, but it's no use: Cara is already grinning for both of them, and it's such a shit-eating grin that Bo-Katan turns away in sheer outrage.

“They have a lot of adrenaline to burn off,” Fennec chimes in. “Maybe we should leave them alone.”

Koska licks her lips, “I'd like to watch, actually.”

Fennec rolls her eyes. She grabs the girl's arm and tugs her toward the exist. “I suggest we take a recon tour around the ship to make sure everything is clear,” she declares with a meaningful nod toward Bo-Katan, who probably accepts the suggestion out of mere exhaustion.

“Very well,” she says stiffly. She casts Din and Cara as warning glower as she brushes last them, “You have five minutes.”

She and Koska leave whispering to each other; Fennec stays behind.

“Try to keep your clothes on, you two,” She pats Din's shoulder, then winks at Cara. “I don't know how long I can hold Princess Uptight off.”

She walks away with her blaster propped back on a shoulder, whistling to herself. Right before the doors of the elevator close on her and the two other women, she mouths to Din, _“You owe me.”_

As soon as they're alone, Cara relaxes into an incredulous laugh. “You know what, I kinda like those three.”

Din allows himself a little laugh of his own. “I have a feeling they like you, too.”

“We make a pretty awesome fireteam.”

“Yeah, you do.”

What Cara achieved with those three women today is going to make history, and all of this for a green little child. Despite all his incredible powers, Grogu's most remarkable trait seems to be his ability to bring people together, some of which, Din muses as he draws Cara back to himself, ended up connected more deeply than anyone could have imagined.

“So, it's over.” Cara's tone is relieved but wistful, burdened by a sudden melancholy.

“So it seems.”

“What are you gonna do now?”

What Din hears is an entirely different question: _“Are you leaving again?”_

“I don't know,” he mumbles. “There is so much I need to process.”

That's all he seems to do, isn't it? Leave. He never felt like he really belonged anywhere: the only home he had for years was a ship, and now that the Razor Crest is gone he should feel lost, but the truth is that the belonging he's been looking for all his life was never a place or a tribe. His inflexibility with the Creed and the Way, his endless effort to be a worthy and honourable Mandalorian... none of that ever made him feel at peace with himself as the time he spent with Grogu and Cara, feeling accepted and cherished for the fallible human he is and not the flawless warrior he was taught to be. He doesn't care about the power the Darksaber hanging from his belt gives him, nor the money Gideon's capture is going to earn him; there is one thing he gained in this unexpected adventure that he truly values: the family he has found in the amazing little guy he just said goodbye to and the equally amazing woman he has in his arms right now.

“You wanna go home?” Cara offers, reading right through him as she's been doing since the very first time they met.

“Home?” he echoes absently.

“ _Home,”_ Cara shrugs like she's apologising that this is all she has to offer.

Of all planets in the galaxy, Nevarro was probably the last Din would have ever thought he'd call his home, even after decades spent going back and forth to support the Covert with his bounties. The only reason Nevarro is looking so appealing all of a sudden is the promise that Cara will be there with him.

“You think Marshal Dune will have me?” he inquires.

Cara arches an eyebrow in a sultry look. “Rumour has it she's very fond of Mandalorian single dads.”

Din grins. It feels so good to do it without the helmet restraining his features. Everything feels different without his helmet: he's exposed, vulnerable, but the way the kid looked at him the moment he set his eyes on his face—the way Cara is looking at him right now... he can't make himself regret how things went, in the end. He will keep wearing his helmet and he will do it with pride, but from now it won't dictate how he lives his life.

“I heard it's mutual,” he informs her.

“Oh? Reliable sources?”

“Absolutely.”

Normally, Cara would retort with something cheeky and flirtatious; the fact that she doesn't says a lot about how close they got to not making it out of this mess alive. It's like all the tiredness from the past few days is falling upon them all at once: they collapse into each other's arms and finally bask in the comforting warmth of this long overdue embrace that seems to fill the whole room with hope.

“Come back to Nevarro with me,” Cara whispers against his chest. “We'll figure things out one day at a time.”

Din feels new tears collect along his eyelids, this time for entirely different reasons—happier reasons. Grogu is still his foundling: if the Jedi doesn't bring him back to him to visit, he will find them. He's achieved much more impressive goals in the last couple of days, after all. 

“Alright,” he smiles into Cara's hair, “let's go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I always say this, but this is not remotely as good and emotional as I wanted it to be. Since I'm not particularly happy with it, I expect you guys to enjoy it, so at least there's that? 😅
> 
> Happy holidays to everyone! Hugs and Keldabe kisses from Italy!


End file.
